


Welcome to the Meta

by Naeshira



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, student/mentor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naeshira/pseuds/Naeshira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnson's been sending Chowder letters since he was a tadpole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Meta

Chowder’s been receiving letters since he was a tadpole. None of them are longer than half a page, but all of them are hand written and hand addressed to him. They all come through the mail, but only the first few had a return address – the Haus. 

Admittedly, the first one was weird, asking if he’d take the red or blue pill. They’d turned out to be candies taped to the page, so he’d eaten both. At the same time. The next letter came a week after his housing confirmation letter.

_Good choice. Welcome to metaphysicality, Chowds! If I’m reading this foreshadowing correctly, you’re gonna enjoy it._

_-J. Johnson =D_

~

Chowder’s slightly hung over the morning after his first Haus kegster. There’s a letter waiting for him in his mailbox though, so even though he groans when the box squeals on its hinges, he’s excited to read it. 

_Congrats on the game, Chow-Chow! Have some aspirin and a Gatorade for that hangover. And check out the Haus today, I’m pretty sure Bitty wanted to make post-party brunch a thing._

_-J. Johnson_

Chowder follows the advice and feels a little better. And by the time he gets himself up and dressed and able to stumble to the Haus, Bitty has pancakes on the table. 

~

Chowder’s received a package from Johnson exactly once. It was a day or two after his first shutout, and he was still riding high on leftover endorphins. He’d bounced all the way back to his dormroom with the package, barely stopping himself from tearing it open in the building’s mail room. 

It was a relatively small box, and a note fell out when he opened it.

 _All characters have their quirks. It’s what keeps the narrative interesting. Goalies like us? We tend to have stranger quirks than others, but the boys love us anyway._  
_Congrats on the shutout, Chowds! #GotYourBack_

_-J. Johnson_

Chowder set the note aside and reached in the box. Cushioned by packing peanuts was a smaller box. It was a display case made of clear plastic and it looked almost the perfect size for…

“My puck!” Chowder cried, almost dropping the package in his haste to get to his hockey bag. 

His shutout puck was wrapped in a pair of socks in his bag. After the hype of winning and letting no goals in, he hadn’t thought about what to do with it, and now it sat in his bag like a landmine. He hated touching pucks. Somehow, Johnson had known that.

Chowder carefully unwrapped the socks and dropped his puck in the little display case. It fit perfectly. 

~

Chowder is aware that he’s cheerful and excitable. He choses to live life one glorious moment at a time, and if that means having a ‘childlike curiosity’ about things, then so be it. He’s tried to be chill and unaffected like Nursey. And he can’t even understand how Dex doesn’t stop worrying and relax. He prefers to be happy and engaged.

But he does have bad days. Like today. Physical exertion releases endorphins, and all that, but sometimes practice does suck. Especially when your best friends are too busy arguing to notice the pucks that sail right past them and into his net. Chowder doesn’t want to blame his friends but… it kind of was their fault that Shitty scored on him so much today. 

Chowder’s tried going to Bitty. He’s tried going to Shitty. He’s asked Ransom and Holster for advice. He contemplated going to Jack, but decided against it. Jack has enough on his plate to worry about a few arguing frogs. He has a career to focus on. And a senior thesis. And Bitty. And like, whatever else is making him look all frown-y before his coffee. But he’s running out of ideas. 

So after practice Chowder slumps his way back to his dorm, picking up his mail on the way. He cheered up a bit at the hand-addressed envelope in his hand. Johnson used green ink today, so that was pretty cool.

_Samwell d-men are an interesting trope. No two pairs are alike, but they all follow a similar character arc. Don’t worry about your boys, Chowdsey. They’ll be sharing beer pong and bus seats and cellys before you know it._

_-J. Johnson_

Not even two weeks later, Dex gave a beautiful pass to Nursey and he slap shot it past the opposing goalie’s glove. Chowder raised his stick above his head and skated a circle around his net in celebration. 

~

Chowder frowned at the letter in his hand. Sometimes Johnson sent weird notes that only made half sense.

_Girls are more confusing than the line between reality and fiction. But like, they’re cute. Us goalies are lucky in love, Chow-Chow, we may be the only ones on the team who can get further than one-night-stands and checking practices… Hah, don’t tell them I said that though. You’re gonna have a great winter break!_

_-J. Johnson_

It was the last day of the semester, and he had his bag all packed and was ready to head to the airport. The California sun was calling his name.

Chowder was still puzzling through the letter when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Caitlin. He had her in his phone under Farmer, and it was honestly the best thing ever because it sounded like a hockey nickname. _OMG ready for some SoCal sun!!! =D_

Chowder texted her back, _Me too!!!_ He wrapped Johnson’s letter back into its envelope and waited for Caitlin’s reply. He couldn’t stop smiling.

~

The first Haus party of the new semester certainly wasn’t as big as epikegster. Which was probably a good thing. It was still busy enough to get smooshed by drunken frat bros though, so Chowder planted himself between Dex and Nursey, as usual. The three got themselves some beers and stood near enough to the pong table to watch Lardo singlehandedly destroy the lacrosse team.

In the pause between one game and the next, a hand tapped Chowder on the shoulder. “Hey, Chowdzers.” 

The frogs turned to find themselves face to face with a tall man who had a strikingly handsome jaw and a Samwell baseball hat pulled low over his brow. Chowder felt his mouth drop open. “Johnson?”

“’Sup, froggie?” Johnson flicked his hat before sticking out his fist for a fist bump that Chowder returned probably too enthusiastically. “How’s your second act playing out?” 

“We won this week!” Chowder told him, while Dex and Nursey both frowned at the alum, trying to remember if they’d ever met him.

“Nice! You guys are gonna tear apart this reality of the playoffs this year. Like, so many plot points are gonna be introduced and resolved, and it’s gonna be so satisfying to get those updates.” Johnson nodded towards the stairs. “We need a goalie talk, bro.” 

“Okay!” Chowder elbowed Dex’s hand off his hoodie sleeve and threw his friends a smile before following Johnson towards the little corner next to the bottom of the stairs. It was slightly quieter over here. “Thanks for all the letters.” Chowder started, and Johnson just grinned.

“It’s not a problem. I’m not doing much besides my meta interning. It’s my pleasure.” He took a swig of his own beer and then fixed Chowder with a serious look. “Now. Goalie talk?”

Chowder nodded excitedly.

“’Kay. Turn around and look at your team.” Johnson instructed. Chowder did as he was told. His team was spread around the room and joined by countless other people, but he could see them all. “This is where we sit, right?” Johnson continued, “In the crease at the end of the rink with everyone in front of us. No better view of the game, is there?” 

“We get to see it all!” Chowder agreed. 

“Exactly!” Johnson threw an arm around his shoulder and pointed with his beer. “The cool thing about this group of characters? How we play on the ice parallels how we act off the ice. Ransom and Holster? Probably the best example.”

Chowder nodded. He could see it with his own best friends. “Like Dex and Nursey! If they’re doing well they play better together, and if they’re fighting they play worse!” He started making the connections in his mind and suddenly his eyes went wide. “That means Jack and Bitty – gmf!” 

Johnson clapped a hand over Chowder’s mouth. “Spoilers.” He warned. He lowered his hand and spun Chowder back around to face him. “Listen, Chowder.” He said seriously, his face dropping into goalie focus, “You’re the Samwell goalie now. You know what that means?”

Chowder nodded, automatically matching his goalie face.

“It means that you’ve got the team’s back.” Johnson said. “It means that we can’t decide what everyone does in front of us, we just have to be ready for whatever gets thrown at us. But the smallest moves we do make can butterfly into the biggest plot points.”

“Like playoffs?” Chowder asked. His eyes widened, “And Bitty getting your room!” 

Johnson nodded. 

Chowder bounced up on the balls of his feet, suddenly excited. “So this is why – omigod, Johnson, this is so cool!” Suddenly his team made so much sense. 

Johnson grinned and ruffled his hair. “Welcome to the meta, Chowder.”

**Author's Note:**

> And there's the fic! I love the goalies in this comic. They're the absolute best.   
> Hope you guys enjoyed it! =D


End file.
